The Adventure of the Dancing Men
by Sebastian-Flight
Summary: "What are you doing Holmes? he asked, his voice suddenly dry but that didn't make Holmes to let go of his hands. "Teaching you how to dance of course! (...) A failed rendezvous leads Holmes to teach his old friend how to dance. A fluffy slash Holmes/Watson Story . Rated K


Disclaimer: I don't own the characters ( if only) nor do I own the rights of the movie... or the wisdom and talent of Sir. Arthur Conan Doyle. All rights belong to their rightful owners.

Author's Note: This is my first Sherlock/Watson slash fanfiction and my first Sherlock fanfiction ever so please don't be too harsh to me! I tried to be in character but I'm not very good at the Sherlock and Watson talk. This idea came to me after watching Games of Shadows again. And please remember I´m new to this community so if someone feels like I have stolen their idea , contact me! I haven´t read all the Sherlock stories on here so I don´t know if such a fic already exists and I never steal ideas of other people!

Thanks to : My faithful beta-reader who seriously reads everything that I ask her to read. Thank you for your endless support and interest in my stories! Without you my stories would be a mess!

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_Another horrible case that caused London to hold its breath has just been solved with the help of the mysterious detective Sherlock Holmes..._

The newspaper showed no picture, but his name was mentioned several times and printed in bold type. Absentminded, his hand glided to a hot teacup which was standing on a little table next to his majestic arm-chair. The case that had been mentioned in the News wouldn't get out of his mind and he couldn't stop asking himself why he had needed so long to solve it. He was either getting old, or tired, or distracted by something, or rather someone.

At this exact moment, when his mind was drifting away and his view became clouded because of the hot steam from his tea, a slim figure came bursting into his flat. Within seconds his mind was clear as day again and he put himself into an upright position before his companion could see that he had been lost in thought again.

"It seems to me, my dear Watson, that your failed rendezvous with that all too chatty lady is the reason for your haste. Although I can't say why said dinner was a failure. I thought you to be the perfect English gentleman, old friend," he said it with some mockery in his voice but he knew that Watson wouldn't be too amused about it.

"And again I'm surprised by your unpredictable power of deduction and your 'charming' way to deal with my personal issues. What leads you to suggest that my dinner with Elizabeth was a faux-pas?" John gritted his teeth, but only because he tried to hide the smile that was trying to break through. He couldn't stop a shake of his head though.

"Your hands are lightly trembling, but I assume that this purely natural habit isn't taking place because you decided to run the whole 2 miles from the Royal to Baker Street, but because someone made you feel ashamed of yourself, and for that reason you're now slightly angry. I can smell red wine... a Merlot I suppose, but since there is a big red mark on your white shirt that you desperately try to hide with your military jacket, I don't think that the smell radiates from your mouth but from said shirt. And, please forgive me if this theory may sound sappy, but your eyes look sad, either because you have lost someone who was very close to you, or because a woman broke your heart." Sherlock's brown eyes were fixed on Watson now who couldn't hide his smile any longer, it was a sad smile but it was still the same surprised and fascinated face that it had been years ago when they first met.

"I'm not angry, Holmes, but I have to agree that I feel slightly ashamed of myself. Elisabeth wanted to dance with me today, but I said no. She begged me because she has asked me many times before, but I still disagreed. She 'harrumphed' and poured wine over my shirt. She seemed to be deeply hurt for she didn't even notice how humiliated I felt. I guess if she knew why I wouldn't want to dance with her she might forgive me. But I can't tell her," John tried to explain.

"That you can't dance, you mean?" Holmes finished for him.

"Which part of my body told you that?" It wasn't intended to be a serious question, just a statement spiced with irony, but Holmes' look was stern.

"It's your gestures Watson... always your gestures! Body language can tell you a lot about a person, I thought I taught you that," he ignored John's snort and went on.

"You may not have noticed but you're wringing your hands at this very moment. Not constantly, but from time to time. Your upper lip is trembling, there is a little hint of sweat on your forehead, your voice changed when you mentioned your evening with Elisabeth... and since I have already witnessed your remarkable dancing skills, I assumed that you were too ashamed to show her." This time it was Holmes who tried to hide a smile.

For a while there was silence in the barely lit room and the smoke of Holmes' lit pipe seemed to be the only movement. Sherlock was asking himself which lucky coincidence saved him from an outrageous Watson who tried to protect his pride by calling his friend a fool, but John didn't move or yell, not even his face moved. Either his friend was deep in thought... or hurt.

The disadvantage of his mind was that he couldn't always analyze the issues of the soul. It was easy for him to find the missing pieces of the jigsaw until it was complete again. He was able to connect the pieces like a mosaic, but some things remained a mystery to him. Although he wasn't a man without any kind of emotion and it was of great importance to him to know what his friend was thinking and how he felt.

"You know Watson, I could be of help in this situation," he murmured while he lit his pipe for a second time. The young man in front of him didn't even seem to notice that a fresh cloud of smoke was hovering around his nose, as if he was in trance.

"I once was told that I'm a fantastic dancer you know, I could teach you."

And without saying another word John's eyes widened in surprise and his look fell upon the other man who was still sitting in his arm chair, his legs crossed and his face covered by an elfish grin.

"You want to? Holmes, I don't think that you could help me in this situation. I doubt that." But he didn't speak any further. His companion seemed to be hurt by his reaction for the grin suddenly disappeared from his face, his cheeks turning into a light red.

"And what gives you the right to assume that I'm NOT a great dancer, my dear Watson. Have you even see me dance before?" Sherlock asked without losing his temper.

"I think that's just my problem. How... I mean... you.. you don't seem to be a big fan of crowds, or - or people in general, public places. When was the last time you left this room? How am I supposed to know if you can dance or not? Don't get me wrong, old friend, but in my opinion, dancing never belonged to one of your skills."

Maybe it was the way Holmes seemed to pout, or it was his urge to find out if his friend could dance or not, but Watson suddenly knew that there was no other way. Sooner or later he had to learn how to dance, or he would get wine in his face for the rest of his life.

"Fine, if you really know how to dance, teach me." After the last word had left his mouth he closed his eyes for protection, but he could hear the joy in Holmes' voice and how he jumped up from the armchair toward his companion.

"Excellent, my friend, excellent... now you have to look or we won't be able to start." With that Watson opened his eyes again, Sherlock being uncomfortably close to his face, but for some reason it didn't disturb him for the moment.

While Watson desperately tried to escape the gaze of Holmes' sparkling brown eyes, the latter took Watson's hands and placed them at his hips, causing his companion to shiver lightly.

"What are you doing Holmes? he asked, his voice suddenly dry but that didn't make Holmes to let go of his hands.

"Teaching you how to dance of course! Since I doubt that you want to learn how to dance like a lady, I'll assume the role of Elisabeth in this nice little dancing lesson while you remain yourself. Lesson NO. 1: You have to feel comfortable with yourself, leave the calculations to me. You just have to follow my steps," the brunette answered leaving his friend with even more confusion.

Watson did as he was told and he soon had to admit that Holmes really knew what he was doing, the steps were simple and fortunately easy to memorize, but John knew that those weren't the reasons why their dance suddenly made him feel comfortable or why it felt so right.

Holmes' hand felt warm against his back, his long fingers slightly brushing over his jacket. His face showed that he was concentrating, but his eyes sparkled in delight and it made Watson's lips form a crooked little smile.

_Always the thinker_, he thought to himself trying to stop the blush that started to form on his face. There was no music but they soon started to dance a bit faster and with more passion, Holmes hand gliding down to Watson's hip. The tension between them seemed to electrify the air and Watson's hands soon felt sweaty and he lost all track of time. Minutes seemed to have passed until he could feel Sherlock's breath on his skin. He looked into the eyes of his companion seeing the longing in those beautiful brown eyes. His legs got wobbly and he was grateful for Holmes' steady grip. He started to breathe faster and something in his head told him that he needed to say something, needed to explain something, but suddenly Holmes covered his lips with his warm fingers.

"You know, there is something else that I always wanted to teach you," and before Watson could ask, Holmes replaced the fingers with soft and warm lips.

He never imagined that Holmes lips tasted of something different than of tea and smoke. They tasted of honey, wine and peppermint, and of so much more that it made him feel dizzy. When he could feel Holmes tongue at his lips, he opened up his mouth and let his friend deepen the kiss that he so much enjoyed, closing his eyes and listening to the orders of his heart.

It was over all too soon and although Watson knew that he wanted more he couldn't do anything against the interruption. He wanted to look into the satisfied face of his friend, see his sparkling eyes again, but when he opened up his eyes he was met with a confused looking Sherlock Holmes who was sitting in his armchair, legs crossed and a lit pipe in his hand.

"Oh good you seem to be awake again, I didn't know that my offer would cause you to start day-dreaming," Sherlock said, and John could feel a pang in his chest. Had he been dreaming all the time? In order not to confuse his friend anymore, Watson tried to win back his composure and after he had straightened his jacket he smiled.

"What offer are we speaking of again?" he asked wickedly.

"I can teach you how to dance," Sherlock said with a shake of his head.

There was silence again before Watson answered, another smile forming on the young man's face.

"You know, I think Elisabeth isn't the right woman for me at all, maybe I should keep looking," he said and with that he left the room in a haste and a startled Holmes had to find out the meaning behind his behavior all alone.

_Maybe I should keep looking._

He made the right decision , it would only take some more time.

**The End**


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